


Waiting

by 1creativeusernameplease



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Heartbeats, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Soft Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1creativeusernameplease/pseuds/1creativeusernameplease
Summary: Jaskier thinks about all the things he waits for when it comes to his witcher.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 54





	Waiting

Jaskier laid his head on his witcher’s chest contentedly and waited. There, he heard it. The distant drumbeat of a heart that moved far too slowly. It was an unnatural thing, for a body to wait so long between beats. For the blood to flow so sluggishly. Though, he supposed it had saved the witcher’s life on more than one occasion. 

He felt Geralt’s chest move beneath his ear as he inhaled deeply, his heart thundering in time with his steady lungs. Jaskier counted the seconds in his head as he waited for the next one. 

It scared him sometimes, how long it took for his heart to beat. Never when they were alone and safe. No, then it was tranquil and relaxing, a steady rhythm to compose ballads to or just drift off to sleep with. No, it was in the moments after Geralt had slain a beast, witcher and monster insides visible and steaming in the frigid air. That’s when the waiting truly scared him. When the only sound was Jaskier’s own panicked breathing as he pressed his fingers to the witcher’s blood-spattered neck, then the waiting was excruciating. 

Jaskier supposed that quite a large percentage of his and Geralt’s relationship was compromised of waiting. There had to be some sort of lyrical inspiration there. A love song of some sort. A ballad of yearning lovers perhaps. 

_ From each other, the two lovers would never stray, _

_ But for now, he could only wait the time away, _

_ And alone he did wait, _

_ And prayed to lady fate, _

_ Until fate brought them together another day. _

No, that was shit. He’d have to work on that. 

It made sense, though, really. Geralt was a witcher. Waiting was different. Time was not the same for him. He probably didn’t even understand the fear that overtook the bard when a spell left him unconscious, and his heart beats came seemingly hours apart. 

He probably had never felt the same way that Jaskier did when he left him at the mouth of a cave or in a damp old tavern while he went off to kill a monster. He was certain Geralt never counted the minutes of his absence. Jaskier tried not to let his imagination run wild in those times he couldn’t see him, but it’s all he had. He was a storyteller after all, and his mind raced with possibilities that he could not witness himself. 

Jaskier could never count the beats of his own heart as it raced in relief whenever his witcher returned safely. There was hardly a pause between one beat of his heart and the next when the mere sight of his grimy companion left him breathless. 

To be honest, waiting was sometimes a blessing in disguise. The reward of learning of Geralt’s past, his thoughts, was so much more satisfying when it came after years of waiting. Saying that Geralt was a private person was an understatement. But it only made it that much more delicious when he shared himself with the bard, even if it did take him decades to do it. The tiniest detail, a morsel of a story, was like gorging oneself at a banquet after a week of fasting. 

The bard had to remind himself to be patient sometimes. He always had to wait a little longer to get a response with his witcher. Jaskier liked those pauses between his question and Geralt’s answer. He’d often fill it with nonsense himself. But sometimes, he’d just wait. He’d wait to see what he had to say, wait for him to reveal himself, wait for him to open himself. Those were the sweetest moments in Jaskier’s eyes. On very rare occasions, Jaskier wouldn’t have to wait at all, and Geralt would speak unprompted. Those moments left him light-headed and giddy, even if the information he shared was a tad on the morbid side. 

The worst wait was when they left each other’s company. Jaskier never really wanted to leave Geralt. Of course, sometimes he yearned for a hot bath and a warm bed, but that all seemed far away when he was in the witcher’s presence. 

Jaskier sighed against Geralt’s chest. He waited to hear the next heartbeat. 

He did want to stay. He hoped Geralt wanted him to stay, too. Ah, but certain circumstances arose here and there and they would have to part ways. Jaskier knew that they would find each other again, they always did, but it did not lessen the relentless ache in his chest in the time he spent waiting to see those golden eyes again. 

For all the waiting that Jaskier did, he thought he was a rather patient man. He would always wait for Geralt to speak his mind, for him to return from a hunt, for the next heartbeat to sound in his chest. He would suffer the interim between sightings of his friend, relieve his longing in his presence if only to see him leave again. It didn’t matter at the end of the day, for he got to see Geralt like no other. He was graced with his companionship. He was witness to his heart, no matter how otherworldly it was, it was still an honorable one. He was still a good man. 

Jaskier only wished he didn’t have to be so patient for everyone else to see him for what he was. Geralt said he was used to the way people treated him, something to be feared, something unworthy of kindness and basic human decency. For the others did not see a man, they saw a butcher, a monster of a lesser evil. Ah, but Jaskier would soon put a stop to that nonsense. He would change their minds. Jaskier would defend his witcher, spreading the truth of his friend’s heroics, his strength, and his heart. His songs would travel the countryside. His stories would spread to all the little towns and villages, and then they’d know. Then Jaskier wouldn’t have to be so patient all the time. 

The bard shifted his body even closer to the witcher and sighed against his chest. He waited to hear the next heartbeat. He felt Geralt’s fingers drift through his hair. 

Yes, if Jaskier had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t have to wait much longer. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have never played the game. I just finished the show and am thinking about reading some books, so sorry if it's a little different. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought. I love comments. :)


End file.
